Terhouse
by Aitrus5
Summary: Sirrus and Achenar discuss life, the Art, and the pursuit of happiness


Author's Note: Just so everybody knows, "Ter" means "tree" in D'ni speech.   
  
  
  
Terhouse  
  
The great tree on Myst Island soared upward into the sky, seeming to touch the very sun, though it paled before it's enormous cousin on Riven. Birds squawked as they circled the trunk. Wisps of clouds floated even higher, bringing with them a cool breeze that rustled the inside of the nook that was high above the ground. Two pairs of legs bent at the knee dangled from the ledge. One pair of bare feet tapped an orderly tune on the bark, the other pair thumped randomly.  
"I'm bored." Sirrus said. He stared up at the wooden ceiling, hands behind his head, chewing on a bit of grass. His pose was mirrored by his brother next to him.   
"Me too." Achenar replied.   
"What do you want to do?"  
"I don't know."   
"That brain of yours is always full of ideas, isn't it?"  
Achenar snorted. "We'll see what yours contains when I throw you off the ledge."  
Sirrus grinned. "At least I have the brains in the family."  
His older brother rolled his eyes. "Perhaps, but I don't see you coming up with any ideas."  
"Fine. Want to go sailing?"  
"We did that a week ago. And the week before that."  
Sirrus stuck out his lower lip. "Yes, but it was fun."  
"For you, maybe. You actually caught something."  
"If you'd just listened to me when I told you ho-"  
"I know how to fish with a pole. That's no fun.I just wanted to catch one with my hands. I don't expect you to understand."  
Sirrus laughed. "You are a wonder, brother."  
Achenar turned and shook his head slowly. "You don't understand me at all."  
Sirrus raised his eyebrows. "What is bothering you, today?  
"Nothing." Achenar sulked.  
"Want to visit one of the Ages?"  
"We've already explored the ~very~ few he'll let us visit alone. We'd be right back where we started."  
"All right, so we go with Father when he returns." Sirrus said. "He's coming back tomorrow."  
"Ha!" Achenar laughed. "I give him another week. He'll get so caught up in whatever he's building he'll forget what day it is here."  
"Yes...you're probably right." Sirrus looked at his brother strangly.   
"And what would we do, go on one of Father's expeditions? I never thought I'd be saying this, but that's starting to bore me as well."  
"...Really." Sirrus said flatly, not wanting to disturb his brother's unusually talkative mood.  
"I mean..." Achenar turned onto his side, facing his brother. "Have you ever noticed how simple his Ages are?"  
Sirrus blinked. "I wouldn't call the Art simple."  
Achenar frowned at himself. "That's not what I mean..."  
Sirrus waited as his brother's brow furrowed. "Well?"  
"I mean, they're all so...backward."  
"Ah, the civilizations?"  
"Yes. The people. We're always building something, or teaching, helping the people live better lives. On Channelwood, they live in wooden huts. The people of Stoneship live in caves. Pran and her people can barely survive in the damnable sun. And they don't even know what they don't have! We build things they wouldn't have ever even conceived of on their own. Lighthouses, fortresses, it would all must seem magical to them."  
"Aspermere didn't even know about electricity." Sirrus noted. "We had to tell them how their own holography worked."  
"Exactly!" Achenar nodded rapidly.   
"And...the point to all this, my brother?"  
"I...I don't know..." muttered Achenar, gazing across the sky. "I'm just...lately...I don't know."  
"Don't know what?"  
Achenar looked at his brother.   
"What's the point of it all?"  
"Why does there have to be one?"  
"I mean...Father has such a wonderous ability. You and I have seen things others can only dream of..."  
"Quite so. Are you sure you're bored?" Sirrus smirked.  
"Why does he never write of...of enormous cities?" Achenar asked. "Almost none of his Ages have technological wonders. We give them those. The people usually have to eck out a living from the land around them. They're not large places and most tend to be islands."  
"They are beautiful, wonderous Ages." Sirrus acknowledged.  
"Oh, yes!" Achenar nooded vigorously. "But on a certain level, they're all the same, don't you see? It's as if he's constraining himself. Why, if I could Write, I've been thinking of several ide-"  
"You?!" Sirrus couldn't help himself.   
"Oh, what's the use talking to you?" Achenar huffed. "You'll just laugh at your stupid brother."  
"Nono, don't stop now! You were just getting interestingly coherent." grinned Sirrus. "I haven't heard this much out of you in months." He held his hands outward. "I'm sorry, I'm just teasing. Please, do go on."  
"You know what Father's always said to us about the Art."  
"It's easier than listening to Mother sometimes?"  
Achenar sighed. "No, Sirrus. His creed that he doesen't create the Ages he writes, he merely links to one already existing."  
Sirrus nodded. "So?"  
"So, what if he's wrong?"  
Sirrus frowned. "Father wouldn't be wrong about something as important to him as that."  
"I'm not saying he's literally wrong. Father doesen't make mistakes like that. But...what he writes, he writes from his dreams and desires, no?"  
"....Yes..." Sirrus said slowly. ~Could it be? The gears are actually turning?~  
"Then..." Achenar's wide eyes caught and held his brothers'. "Might his Ages as well have been his creations?"   
Sirrus rolled that thought around in his head. "I suppose." he conceded, not willing to admit he'd never thought of it. "An actual Age exists that is a perfect match for Father's wants and needs...so in that context, it might as well have been actually created by him."  
Achenar was nodding, wispy beginnings of a beard surrounding a hint of a smile.   
"So..." Sirrus continued his line of thinking. "Father writes what he needs to satisfy his life."  
"An endless explorer, our Father." Achenar said solemnly. "Like Grandmother was."  
Sirrus nodded, then looked down, embarrassed. "I've had my own ideas for an Age as well."  
"Only one?" Achenar laughed. "I've got a couple journals full by now of ideas. Much different from Father's Ages. More...fun."  
"Really." Sirrus stared hard at his brother. "Achenar, my dear brother, you are just full of surprises today. We should come up here more often. The wind through your ears does you good."  
Achenar's face narrowed. "All right...a question, [i]dear[/i] brother."  
"Yes?" Sirrus drew out the word.  
"What are you going to do with your life in the years to come?"  
Sirrus blinked once. "Ah...I have no idea..." he stammered.  
"Come on. You must have some clue." Achenar sneered. "Surely you didn't think we'd be exploring with Father all our lives."   
"Well...no. Of course not."  
"I don't want to stay on Myst the rest of my days, brother." said Achenar softly. "I want to write my own Ages. I want to dream for myself."  
"You sound like Mother." said Sirrus. "But I daresay I share your feelings, brother. I...wish to find my own link."  
A long moment passed.  
"We are the last of the D'ni, after all." said Achenar. "It is our heritage, isn't it?"  
Sirrus nodded slowly. "You are right, brother. Achenar." he added.   
Achenar smiled slightly. "Then we are in agreement."  
Sirrus smirked. "Like any other apprentice, we shall learn our Father's craft, to the betterment of our lives."  
They lay back once more, staring with arms folded behind their heads, peering through slitted eyes at the setting sun. The treetops below were lightly dusted with chirping birds. A chill swept through the air as the sky grew dark. Neither spoke, choosing to keep their plans to themselves, but in unison, their feet resumed thumping on the trunk of the great tree.   
"Sirrus! Achenar!"   
Their mother's dream-like voice floated upwards from the ground below.   
The thumping stopped.  
"Your Father has returned!"  
  
  
The End 


End file.
